Rescue Me
by stephaniand
Summary: Batwoman!HG and Cop!Myka AU. Bering & Wells. Rated M. Might turn into multi-chapter, you decide.
1. Chapter 1

**No Copyright Infrigement Intended**

**Title: **Rescue Me

**Author: **Stephaniand

**Rating: **M

**Genre: **Romance/Sci-Fi

**Perspective: **Third Person Interchangeable Point-Of-View

**Pairing: **Myka/HG

**Note:** Look me up on Twitter for information on updates - Nerdsbians

_Chapter 1_

* * *

The lights of Gotham City shone bright in the late hours of the night. The only sounds to be heard were those of late-night traffic, the aggravated sighs of day-workers who, stuck in motionless traffic, shouted their frustration at other angry workers. While for some, the day was coming to an end, for others the night was just starting. Music pounded loudly in nightclubs, laughter fell out drunkenly onto the streets, sweaty bodies moved to the rhythm, letting the lights blend together. But outside, the black of the night sky stayed uninterrumpted.

Except for two bright eyes and the creepiest grin, watching the city, waiting in the dark.

Being a defender of the weak and helpless, an enforcer of the law means no vacations. Crime never rests. Helena knew this. Caturanga, her butler, reminded her of it constantly. With great power comes great responsability, blah, blah, blah. Old man wasted precious breath. And it was on nights like these that she felt the most alive.

She was out with her coworkers. From her day-job, of course. She was already five-shots in and feeling the influence, in the shape of the grasping hands of Myka, her best friend and also a coworker, who was quite intoxicated as well, all but begging her to accompany her to the dance floor.

Well, who was Helena to deny her the pleasure?

They tumbled and stumbled among the writhing bodies, laughing the whole while. Helena watched, entranced, gracefully navigating the dance floor in her sky-high heels, as the strobe lights danced and created wondrous shapes on her friend's skin, who guided her along with only their warm hands reassuringly connected, until they got to the center of the dance floor.

Myka, looking satisfied and grinning mischievously, grabbed both of Helena's wrists and pulled her body deliciously closer. The raven-haired beauty did not appear surprised, it was on nights like these when the two friends, heavily intoxicated and filled to the brim with excited energy, ditched unworthy dance partners, and took delight in each other's much more pleasurable company, moving as one; letting heavy breaths mingle together, unheard over the loud beats.

As a new song started, Myka turned her body around in Helena's arms, reaching up to take her hands, letting them sweep across the front of her sparkling blue dress, across her heated body, until they reached her hipbones, and kept them there. She turned her head to the side, letting her straightened dark brown hair rest on her right shoulder, as she threw her head back, rested it on Helena's shoulder, as whispered in her ear, letting lips faintly ghost over her porcelain skin.

"I love this song."

And with that their bodies writhed and melded together to the pounding rhythm, her lips constantly but lightly brushing against the sensitive skin of Helena's neck, who looked straight ahead, even as her eyes fluttered closed, her neck stretched wanting to feel more, and her mouth opened, yearning to press her lips to heated skin as wave after wave of desire ran through her. A desire that was familiar, that came with the frustration of never being truly sated.

_And now my heart's gone cold,_  
_And the one who brings it back,_  
_Is you._

Myka wouldn't let Helena's hands move from her grasp, choosing instead to meld her back to Helena's front, move both their bodies in time to the music.

So pick me up.

Until finally she felt her grip loosen, and Myka's lips trailed slowly down her neck, making shivers shoot up and down her back, until they were gone, and felt her hands travel upwards on the other woman's body.

_Pick me up,_  
_Take me out,_  
_Turn it on._

They found their destination in delightfully full breasts, which easily molded into her gentle hands. But they were removed,  
much too soon, unfortunately. The body in front of her wasted no time in turning itself, and she opened her eyes to emerald ones filled with a dazed hunger, an insatiable lust, and felt the vibrations of a wanton moan come from Myka's lips, reverent in the pronunciation of a single name.

"Helena."

_Pick me up._  
_Are you ever gonna do that?_  
_Are you ever gonna do that?_

She hadn't a time to dwell on the deliciousness of the proximity of Myka's pink lips before said woman was once again pulling her off the dance floor, so fast that the lights and the bodies whizzed by. Before she knew it, her back was slammed harshly into a wall, knocking the air out of her lungs. She tried to open her eyes but before she could try hot lips were pressed on her skin, and it was all she could do to breathe out, steel her own self, and press her hands against the other woman's shoulders. Her hands, however, betrayed her mind, they caressed every part of that tanned, silky skin. They encouraged the other woman to continue her ministrations, with augmenting fervor. Whose velvety lips never once left her skin. Who now whispered her name again, in the form of a plea.

"Helena..."

"Myka, we can't." Helena fought against small hands until she could grasp her lovely face, making sure those eyes were looking straight into hers before continuing, "darling, what if someone should see us."

Myka grasped onto Helena's wrists and leaned into the warm touch, her eyelids hooded, stare targeting plump lips which were simply so, so close "I don't care."

"You shall tomorrow."

Myka's gaze finally found hers, emerald green forests meeting the darkness of the night sky. They clashed together in a world of wonder and battles that raged, all the things they didn't say, that went implied. Clear as if screamed with a megaphone in the light of day, not whispered and lost to the music on dark, drunken nights like this.

"I only care about tonight."

It was at that time fate chose to lay its heavy hand. Suddenly, a crash and screams were heard over the music, which promptly stopped. Helena's head shot up.

Crime never rests.

She knew the sounds of catastrophe weren't coming from inside the club, but from the streets. It was time to leave. She quickly disentangled herself from Myka's touch. Her best friend looked confused, and a silent yet solemn inquiry met her eyes.

It went unanswered. She could not give her any vocal reassurance, and the chalkboard-scratching sounds of maniacal laughter now permeated the walls. She pressed a button on her belt, knew her invisible car would wait for her at the entrance. It was with a slight difficulty that she moved between the panicked bodies, sprinting towards the exit and climbing over each other in their haste. A second crash was heard, this time much closer.

"Batty... come out, come out wherever you are!"

It seemed the clown had come out to play. He knew better. It was stunts like this that landed him right back where he belonged, in Arkham. Not that he ever decided on an extended stay. It was of no bother to her person, however, it made for much more entretainment than she originally planned.

Maybe she could even try out her new toys.

It was exactly as her mind had this thought that she finally slipped into invisibility. As the gears changed, she pressed the auto-pilot, and answered a call from Caturanga while a side cabinet opened, and the Bat-mask fell onto her lap. She wasted no time in changing, her leathers sliding onto her body like a second skin. Caturanga spoke.

"-Donovan will be joining you soon, H.G."

"That won't be necessary." Said she.

It was Claudia who now spoke, "I've just locked on your location. The Joker is there. He has escaped from Arkham."

"I am aware."

"He needs a return ticket."

"And I shall provide him with one."

With these words the car screeched to a stop, and she climbed out through a hatch in the roof. The night served to conceal her as she took out her handy grappler, pointed it towards a roof, and let it shoot up and grasp the side of the brick building. In a moment she too was at the top, looking over the city, the Bat Signal glowing bright on the dark clouds behind her. Even from her high perch she could hear the laugh of a psychopath.

"What have we here? So much fun and no one to play with!" Harley Quinn, followed by her diabolical hyenas, cartwheeled out of the Gotham Museum, balancing a large bag in her arms. There was a hole of gigantic proportions on the side of the building. She could only assume that they had come for the Diamond. Harley laughed, merry and delighted.

Her happiness was short-lived, due to a heavy-handed slap across her face.

"Be careful with that diamond, Harley, you might just break it with your stupidity!" He had the most hideous snarl on his clownish face.

"But puddin'-" she whimpered.

"And shut your mouth!"

It was at that moment a single shot was heard, and both criminals, as well as Helena, quickly turned their heads to a single woman, standing tall in a blue sparkly dress in the middle of the chaos, gun pointed at the Joker's face.

"Police!" she exclaimed with authority, "put your hands where I can see them!"

Myka.


	2. Chapter 2

**No Copyright Infrigement Intended**

**Title: **Rescue Me

**Author: **Stephaniand

**Rating: **M

**Genre: **Romance/Sci-Fi

**Perspective: **Third Person Interchangeable Point-Of-View

**Pairing: **Myka/HG

**Note:** Look me up on Twitter for information on updates - Nerdsbians

_Chapter 2_

* * *

Myka stood bravely in her 4-inch green heels, staring daggers at the criminal. She briefly wondered about the rest of her coworkers, but her unvoiced question was soon answered as she started to hear police sirens in the distance. Most of the people had left, and the noise had quieted down. Now there was only an air filled with tension. Not the good kind. For some reason, the agent had an extremely bad feeling about this crook. His clothes alone could be considered a crime of fashion. A green tie on top of an orange button-up shirt. A purple suit. A single flower in his breast-pocket. She eyed it warily in her thorough examination of her opponent. His appearance would have seemed comical, especially with the exaggerated face make-up, and the sick-looking green hair shooting up from his scalp, but in the same way as a really bad joke, the criminal only made her insides turn, and gave her no desire to laugh. She had first pointed the gun at his also peculiarly dressed companion, but turned it towards him immediately after seeing the way he had spoken to her, with a commanding, hateful and deprecating tone. She decided at that moment that she hated this man, and would stop him from inflicting harm on anyone else. There were no visible assault weapons, but she was taking no chances. Myka swiftly took out her gun from its holster at her hip, aimed it slightly over their heads, and fired one warning shot.

"Police!" she exclaimed loudly and firmly, watching their heads swivel around to her, "put your hands where I can see them!"

The man took one look at her and laughed out loud, a disconcerting, insane laugh. The agent didn't hesitate to aim cautiously, and fire again. The sound was loud in the otherwise silent night.

The clownish-looking man was now outraged, as Myka stood her ground, still pointing a gun at him, "You blew a hole through my favorite suit!" Then his red lips twisted into an ugly smile and he let out another guffaw, "I'll enjoy destroying you."

A dangerous-looking weapon of immense proportions came out of seemingly nowhere. Before she could move to fire again, the crook had fired himself. The smell of fire and smoke briefly registered and a strong impact before her body was suddenly flying through the air.

She rolled against the pavement, but there was something cushioning her. A warmth enveloping her completely, and as she breathed in, or tried, coughing harshly, the strong smell of leather enveloped her senses. Finally her body stopped moving, and she was able to open her eyes. To absolute darkness. A black cape enveloped her body and that of another. Behind shining jet-black hair the moon shone and reflected its light on a face made of pure porcelain. It was half covered, and all she could see were bright, intelligent eyes and the smallest of smirks.

"Myka." The mysterious woman stated, her dark, low and raspy voice making her insides tremble, "don't ever do that again."

Said woman frowned slightly, her jaw falling in wonder, "how do you—?"

Another explosion set their bodies in movement again. Myka blindly hung to the harsh leather, and, before she could realize what was going on, she was once again on her feet; like a shadow, the dark knight had disappeared. Luckily for her, so had the brightly-dressed criminals. She had half a mind to go in search of them, when red and blue lights turned on both corners and skidded to a stop on the other side of the street. The sound of closing doors barely registered in her hazy mind before her partner, Pete, ran up to her side.

"Myka! We got an anonymous call to come straight away" he said, putting his hands on his knees, breathing heavily, and glancing in the direction of Myka's unfocused gaze, "are you all right? Who was that?"

"I…" she breathed out in a soft voice, blinking slowly, "don't know."

But where's Helena?

* * *

It was on the news the next day. Apparently the clown's name was 'the Joker'. Myka huffed over her straight black morning coffee, how fitting. Last night's joke hadn't seemed funny at all, but apparently, it had landed him in Arkham, the high-security prison of Gotham. An unidentified someone had left him and his little friend there last night, cuffed and weaponless. She pondered on that mysterious someone's identity, leaning back on her breakfast table, a hand supporting her at the edge, the other holding her white mug. Could it be the woman from yesterday? There was no way to be sure. For all she knew, that dark identity could have been part of the scheme. However, the diamond had been promptly returned to the museum, and there was no mention of a woman dressed in black from head to toe on the news, and no way to know. She went to the kitchen to wash her plates, still thinking on the matter, when large arms wrapped around her midsection. She gasped in surprise, dropping the mug in the sink and almost breaking it. She whirled around and raised a hand to her beating heart.

"Sam!" she glared at her oblivious husband, "you startled me!"

He frowned at her, confused, "didn't you hear me come in?" Myka leaned back against the sink and shut off the water, heaving an exasperated sigh, "and since when do you get 'startled'?" Okay, maybe not so oblivious, "first off, that sounds like something Helena would say." His lips twitched in obvious dislike.

Myka turned her back on him, a warning obvious in the tone of her voice, "don't start with me." She stated simply, her tone final. Samuel had never really approved of her choice for a best friend. He disliked everything in Helena from her accent and choice of words, the way she carried herself, claiming that it was 'clearly arrogant', to the amount of time his wife spent with her. Especially lately. Images of last night briefly flitted past her eyes, and she let out a tired sigh, closing the cupboard. Her shoulders tensed, she felt the incoming of a long and senseless argument before she even heard it.

"You were out with her last night weren't you?" She turned around slowly, begrudgingly, to see his eyes narrow in suspicion. Suspicion of what, she didn't really know.

"We were out with the whole department, Sam." She stated without emotion, walking out the kitchen to get dressed, "Then some goon broke into the Gotham Museum in front of the Need Want."

"Did you catch him?" he asked, the tone of his voice making it clear he didn't really care, following close behind as she walked into their master bedroom and opened the doors to her closet.

She glanced at him briefly, gears turning in her head, "No." she paused, thoughtful, "we didn't."

* * *

Myka threw her head on the desk, beyond frustrated. A soft hand was placed on her shoulder, the strong aroma of coffee drifted deliciously to her nostrils, as a single Starbucks cup was set in front of her. She closed her eyes involuntarily. When she opened them again, the lithe figure of her best friend perched on her desk, one perfect leg crossed on top of another. She still hadn't put on her lab coat, probably having just come in. Helena was their medical examiner, Dr. Wells as everyone else knew her, with a PhD in forensic science. There was what seemed to be a permanent smirk on Helena's beautiful face, a smirk that Myka's eyes seemed to be just as perpetually drawn to.

"Dr. Wells." Myka greeted, her voice calmer than she'd think. She felt a surge of pride and confidence, which the woman in front of her evenly matched.

"Agent Bering." Her eyes were warm, inviting and kind. A slender hand motioned towards the cup of coffee, "I thought you'd appreciate this."

"You thought right." She raised the cup to her lips, looking in Helena's eyes, took a sip and almost moaned. Starbucks was getting more and more expensive, she feared one of these days she might have to sell an organ in order to obtain a sip of coffee that wasn't homemade. This miracle-worker somehow still managed a thoughtful cup every once in a while. She drank the rest of her coffee, completely conscious of the watchful eyes of the woman in front of her, who watched with just a bit too much intensity to be considered platonic, at the expressions of unadulterated pleasure crossing Myka's features. Said woman smiled thankfully up at her from her black plastic rolling chair. She just looked at her for a moment before speaking, "for the record," she informed the medical examiner, placing a small locating device on the table, "I knew you'd slipped this into my dress."

"I thought you'd know." The black-haired beauty replied softly, with a teasing smile.

Myka searched her eyes, smirking back at her, "I knew you'd think I'd know."

Helena showed her the most blinding beautiful smile, her head tilted to one side, and her mouth opening to answer when a voice from the desk next to Myka's stopped her. It was Pete.

"Oh, alright!" He narrowed his eyes at the flirty English lady, then turned his head back to his partner, "Myka, we have that case," he sighed, not being used to having to remind his partner to focus on her work, "remember?"

"So we do." She looked at her dearest friend, a small apology in her eyes and a warm smile upon her lips.

"Righty-Ho then!" Helena quipped as she stood up from her perch on Myka's desk, throwing an affectionate glance at her favorite woman, "and I'll see YOU later." She winked briefly, and went on her way. Before she left, she also whispered, only for Myka to hear, "Keep safe, darling."

Myka just swiveled around in her chair, hearing the elevator doors ping, swivel open. She watched Helena get inside, turn around, and meet her eyes.

Forever filled with unanswered questions and unquestionable longing.


End file.
